In Which Lileina Knows What Eyes She Sees

July 9, 1198

Lileina bit her listless tongue and forced her eyes back to the top of the page. What a pointless exercise it was without Searle. He'd been so patient, so encouraging. He'd smiled throughout each session--not a mocking smile, but a proud one, more sure of her eventual success than she could ever wish to be. He'd made her want to try. Even when he'd fallen sick, he'd insisted on listening to her, cheering her on from his deathbed. Now that he was gone, Lileina had just about given up.

But, Searle would have wanted her to keep trying, and the ten months since his death had compounded her grief with the grueling guilt of failing him. So, since she had to man the study anyway today--with her mother escorting her newly-arrived stepfather to his audience with the queen, with Cladelia and the children out on a play-date, with the steward on his day off--for all she couldn't imagine that a single youngster in the kitchens could possibly have been a worse choice to be left in charge than she was--she supposed she owed it to her brother's memory to make the use of being stuck in a room full of books.

"H-how th-th-thankful I am, S-S-Socrates, th-that I h-h-have..."

She trailed off--very aware that she was alone, but the sounds of snickering children dancing around her ears all the same. Suffice to say, she'd never said a word in any of her classes since her disastrous introduction at the age of five; most of her current university peers probably thought she couldn't speak at all, and that was almost preferable. At least that was a choice she'd made.

But--somehow--Searle hadn't seen it that way. And maybe her beloved brother wouldn't have felt so out of reach if she kept practicing. "...ar-r-rived at l-l-last, and, l-like a w-w-weary t-t-t-traveler after a l-long j-j-journey, m-may b-b-b-be at r-r-rest."

She felt herself blush as the echoes of her stammered syllables rang past their lifespan. That entire sentence might as well have been the 'long journey' it had itself reference. If she'd been reading in her head, she could have been done with the page by then--and she would have been engrossed and comfortable rather than foolish and ashamed.

But... Searle...

Lileina took a sharp breath before she continued. "And I p-pray th-the b-b-being who al-w-ways w-w-was of old, and h-has n-n-now b-b-b-been b-by m-m-me r-r-r-revealed--"

Someone knocked at the study door. "Hello?"

Lileina's speech, useless at the best of times, cut silent entirely. It was a man's knock--and the greeting was not of a voice she recognized. Maybe she ought to have recognized it, but the only advantage to being Celina of Armion's dumb youngest daughter was that her absence at events wasn't likely to attract much notice.

"Is anyone in here?"

The study door was unlocked. And why shouldn't it have been? Her five-year-old nephew had nothing worth hiding. Her mother kept all the important documents in her own private rooms. Lileina's best hope was the visitor's own propriety; if she didn't make a sound, then he would take that as the room being empty, and leave.

But, the door creaked open. "I thought I heard--oh. Hello, Lileina."

Lileina froze and burned at once, her spine so brittle that a gust might have cracked it.

Of all people... why oh why oh why did it have to be Severin Mokonri?

Not that he'd ever picked on her before. Or even spoken to her. Lord knew he was about the last person she'd ever dare to speak to, what with his evening sky eyes and his silken hair and that smile that was just crooked enough...

"Uh... what are you reading?" His face grew a little pink as he finished the question--probably remembering just who he was talking to and how unlikely it was that he'd get any response.

But, if only to be polite, Lileina closed the book partway, flashing him the cover.

"Oh. Critias. My mother likes that one." He grimaced, apparently unaware that that was about the highest compliment Lileina had ever thought she'd get from a handsome young man and she was about to die of embarrassment on the spot. "Speaking of mothers, my father has a proposition for yours, so he sent me over to discuss it with her. Is she around, or--oh, shit. Sorry. I... forgot again."

Lileina blushed--but, there was a stack of parchment on the desk, along with a quill and inkwell. She put the book aside and stood, some insane logic about it being more difficult to look down on someone who was standing. She stepped around the desk and dipped the quill, then scrawled him a quick note.

"'She went to the castle with King Oswald.'" He'd read it on first sight with more clarity than Lileina could pay to a book she'd almost memorized--just like everyone else. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

Lileina shook her head.

"Ah, all right. Hmm... do you at least think she'll be back soon enough that it'll be worth my waiting here for a while?"

She shrugged. For all she knew, her mother would be back within the quarter-hour, but there was no one around to keep him occupied until then. That was a sentiment best elaborated, so she picked up the quill again.

"'I can't promise that it will be'," Severin read as she replaced the quill in the inkwell. "Hmm. Well... I don't want that ride from Veldora to have been a complete waste of time. Maybe we could visit for a while?"

Lileina turned to him and stared. Severin blinked as the absurdity of what he'd just said caught up to him. "Uh, well... I mean, we don't need to talk to visit, right? You've got that quill there. Or we could just sit around and read, if you prefer; it's not as if there's any shortage of books in here."

She shrugged again, though she doubted the blush in her cheeks went unnoticed. There were some similarities in his face--the curve of the jaw, the shape of the eyes, the slight bump at the bridge of the nose--to that of her sister Rona's husband, who more than one person had mused could have been a descendant of some obscure Mokonri bastard. As Lileina privately thought Ashe to be the most romantic man she'd ever met, Severin's sudden resemblance to him in his awkward, second-guessing manner was about to make her burst.

"So... you're majoring in Mathematics, right?"

She nodded.

"That's not surprising. Wolf said the only reason he passed mathematics in school was because he copied off you."

Lileina blinked. That was certainly new to her; she'd always excelled in mathematics, yes, but she hadn't thought her classmates had even noticed her presence most days--never mind her abilities.

But Severin reasserted himself with a nod. "Apparently a lot of people did. You might have saved me a little bit of trouble if we'd been a few years closer in age; I'm pretty dense where mathematics are concerned."

But he, at least, could speak properly. Lileina glanced down to the hem of her skirts. She would have gladly forgotten everything she knew about mathematics if that was the trade for getting over her stuttering.

"Oh. Oh, no. I mean... shit, I don't know how to say this without sounding like an ass. Just, you know people don't really think you're stupid, right? No one whose opinion is worth caring about, anyway."

Lileina shuddered. She knew very well that most people outside her immediate family did think she was stupid. Hell, some of her siblings--other then Searle--and nieces and nephews probably did, but were just too kind to say it.

"No, really! And don't think I'm just saying that to be nice, because I'm really not that nice. I mean, a lot of people who spend every waking hour talking never think about a damn thing they're saying--like I'm doing right now, I guess. But all anyone has to do to know that you're thinking is to look you in the eye. You're not stupid. Just because you can't talk doesn't mean--"

"It--" Lileina blinked, caught off-guard by her own daring. Severin, now quiet as she herself preferred to be, stared. Lileina swallowed. She supposed she had no choice now but to finish that thought. "It's n-n-n-not th-th-that I c-c-c-c-can't..."

Her face no doubt as red as his tunic, Lileina turned away, a handful of tears burning on her lashes. That had been more than enough to give him the idea.

"Lileina..."

She shook her head. She wished he'd just leave. Maybe he, at least--given time--could forget that this had ever happened.

"Lileina, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I should have just shut up."

He raised his hand to the level of her own, securing her inward retreat at her elbow. His fingers had any young knight's fair share of callouses, but there was a softness to them all the same. "You don't have to talk if you'd rather not--but, for the record, I think your voice is rather pretty."

Lileina swallowed, a couple of those tears breaking free. "D-d-d-don't l-l-lie t-to m-m-me."

"I'm serious. There's a rhythm to it. It's like rain--only better, because it doesn't make you all muddy and confine you indoors all day."

She blinked, wiping the tears away as she looked up and met his eye. Those weren't a liar's eyes, or a bully's eyes. She knew because she'd seen enough of both. Still--she couldn't quite believe him. "I d-d-don't kn-n-n-now..."

"Well, I do." Severin shrugged. "And unlike you, I am stupid--so if even I can figure something out, it's bound to be pretty obvious."

Lileina brought her arm back across her chest. If he'd thought like that at five or six, then she wished he had been a few years younger--so he might have told all those children who'd laughed as she'd stuttered her name where to stick it. "Y-you're n-not st-t-tupid."

"Well... maybe just comparatively." He winked. Lileina didn't know what do with that; she didn't think anyone other than her parents and Searle had ever winked at her. "Anyway--I'm sorry for bringing it up. And I'll leave if you want me to. And you don't have to worry about me telling anyone, because it's none of my business."

She bit her lip and watched his eyes for a minute. They were at their bluest just after he blinked, a brilliant contrast to the black lashes and pale flesh that had eclipsed them seconds before.

"Y-y-you c-can st-t-t-tay if y-you w-w-want... Severin."

She squeezed her arm at the shock of the unstammered name. But Severin just smiled and rested his hand on her own again.

"...I'd like that."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Severin Is Tricked by the Troubled Mind

July 26, 1188

It had been a closed-casket funeral.

Arkon had been a handsome boy, their mother always said. He had their father's soft blond hair, the Mokonri eyes, and their grandmother's flawless skin. The horse had seen fit to remedy that. One eye had swollen shut, and Aerina had had to shave part of his head to administer the stitches. His body hadn't been unscathed either. A broken leg, several broken ribs... one of which had nearly punctured his lung. It hadn't had to, though. The damage to Arkon's head had been enough.

One stupid accident, and his parents' handsome, strong, clever son--Severin's kind and generous brother--was gone.

And clumsy Severin with his crooked nose and his over-sized feet was still here.

His parents were no strangers to losing children. Severin's sister Nearina had a twin who'd died before her second birthday, before Severin and even Arkon were born. He himself had had a twin sister too, and her life hadn't been much longer. But they'd scarcely had a chance to know Alina or Lileina--none of the family had. They'd known and loved Arkon for thirteen years. Severin had known and loved him all his life.

He didn't know how to not have a big brother.

"You'll be all right, Sev."

Severin stiffened. It was Arkon's voice. But it couldn't have been Arkon.

Could it?

"Things will be rough for a while, but you'll be fine. Same with our sisters, and our parents. You'll make an excellent heir for father. You'll be a great knight, you'll marry a gorgeous woman, and you'll live a longer time than a lot of people around here."

Was he insane? Or was it just the grief, the trick of a troubled mind in an attempt at healing itself? "Arkon..."

"Don't worry about me. I'm not anywhere horrible. Death is a temporary thing anyway, it turns out; I'll be back on earth in some form or another in a couple centuries.

"Just name your first son after his uncle, all right?"

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which CeeCee Keeps Her Voice Down

July 24, 1188

Just as CeeCee's father had said, she and Lyssa found Renata and the other squires at Cuthron and Eleara's house, and not one of them looked pleased to be here. Severin was slumped over on the couch, Donnie beside him with his arms crossed, muttering occasionally. Renata and Falidor stood, whispering about something--something serious, if CeeCee was close enough to make out their expressions. It wasn't much like any of them.

Nor had it been like her parents to make haste down to her Aunt Aerina's shop in the village, stopping on their way out of the castle only to send CeeCee and Lyssa to meet the others, and two messengers to tell Thetis to stay at Honora's house and Xeta and her younger children to stay at Lady Celina's. The others squires, her mother had said, would tell them what had happened. It would be important that they got everyone's side of the story. Sir Karlspan would give his at Aerina's, and the others would give theirs here, when they were up to talking about it.

It didn't take a genius to figure out, between the healer's involvement and the abrupt end of the training session, that someone had been injured--badly. If her brothers and Renata and Severin were here, then it had to have been Arkon.

But how? CeeCee didn't want to ask just yet. Lyssa, however, wouldn't. There were often perks to being the bolder of a pair, but this wasn't one of them. "What happened?"

Severin furrowed deeper into the couch and Donnie shook his head. Falidor and Renata traded worried glances as CeeCee and Lyssa stepped toward them. It was Falidor--not typically the bolder of that pair--who spoke first. "Arkon's horse went wild."

"His horse?" Arkon, as far as CeeCee knew, had been riding the same horse for years. And he'd always been so good with horses! "How?"

"It was a new horse. A stallion. One of the men at the stables was complaining about how he couldn't break it, so..." Her brother cringed. "Arkon said he'd give it a shot."

"It was horrible, CeeCee." Renata crossed her arms together and shuddered. Hardly a characteristic gesture of someone so fearless. "He was barely on the horse when it started bucking, and it flung him right into a post. Then it galloped around in a rage and--" She cast a wary look toward Severin, who'd taken to shaking. Her next words were whispered. "Trampled him. Thoroughly."

"So Sir Karlspan had the men cart him to Aunt Aerina's. He was still breathing when they left, but..." Falidor stopped. This too was probably for Severin's benefit.

CeeCee had seven brothers, six still living. Six was more brothers than many ever had, and even with brothers to spare, the thought of one of them having some freak accident was a nightmare even as a hypothetical.

Severin had only one brother.

So CeeCee kept her voice down too. "Do you think he'll--?"

Renata sighed. "I don't know."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Garrett Does Not Have One of Each

October 21, 1180

Red Severin--both dark-haired little boys on the floor were named Severin, and both were called Sevvie by their fathers, so Garrett had taken to distinguishing them by the color of their shirts--was Valira and Searle's younger son, the only child they had brought with them as their other three were plenty old enough to spend the night with only the nurses about. He and Karlspan were less than a year apart and played together well; Red Severin was by far the more outgoing of the two, but while many children his age might have been frustrated by quieter playmates, the boy had nothing but patience for his shy, mild cousin.

Blue Severin was Lonriad and Asalaye's eldest. He wasn't mean, but he seemed to prefer animals to other boys, if the plight of poor captive Sheba was any indication. His little brother, scared of the bigger boys as year-old children often were, clung instead to his father's tunic.

Garrett couldn't be sure what he might have done with little Karlspan if his brothers-in-law hadn't had the good sense to bring their own sons along. He would have done what he could for the boy, of course--what sort of horrible father wouldn't try to comfort his son when the only mother the kid had ever known could very well be in mortal peril?--but if he'd been the one distracting Karlspan, wouldn't that bring further emphasis to his own worries? Karlspan's preoccupation with his little cousins and the presence of the other men were the only things holding Garrett's own sanity in place.

Not that the men were doing the greatest job of it.

"Maybe Nanalie's at an advantage? You know, being a midwife and all." Searle's suggestion was a misguided attempt at reassurance where distraction would have been preferred. "She knows what to expect, and how to best compose herself. And she's not the sort who's prone to panic if something goes wrong, so extra stress shouldn't be a problem."

As if to punish him, Lonriad didn't only nod in agreement, but apparently felt the need to contribute. "Plus you know how everyone listens to Nanalie. She's probably nagged the kid out already, no problem."

Garrett glowered at them both. At least his father-in-law had the sense not to make such comments. But then he remembered that Nanalie's mother had died birthing her youngest and suddenly that wasn't any better. "Er, so... surely you've heard my uncle's thinking about throwing a tournament? Planning on entering?"

He drummed on the desk, fighting to keep a grimace in place as his brothers-in-law took their sweet time answering. Too much time.

And after all that--two shakes of the head.

"If I'm going to get that messy, I'd hope to have a better reason than some vanity contest of brute strength."

"And you think I'd risk this pretty face? What does that leave my poor extended family to refresh their eyes with after a glimpse at my sister's husband?"

His father-in-law's forehead collided with his open hand. Garrett could relate to the sentiment. "Really, nobody likes winners' purses any more?"

"What's the point? It'll just go to Casimiro or Ashe or Neilor anyway. Or Isidro, if he forgets his helmet and the mere sight of his ugly face scares his opponents right off their horses." Lonriad shrugged, planting a kiss on his little son's head before steering right back to the conversation Garrett had been trying to avoid. "What about you? Is your new little mite going to be able to see his daddy fight before he has the chamberpot figured out?"

For Christ's sake, if the next phrase out of your mouth isn't--

"Oh, hello Valira."

That hadn't been quite what he was thinking. Regardless, Garrett swallowed back some misplaced nerves and turned his head. His sister had indeed emerged from the birthing room.

And not unaccompanied.

Whatever the hell they'd been talking about forgotten, Garrett scrambled to his feet. "Nanalie--"

"She's fine." Valira gestured for him with a jerk of her chin. "Get over here."

Relieved and grateful beyond the point where disagreement was possible, Garrett did as he was told. Not that he needed to be told.

A little face stared at him: tiny baby lips in a half-imagined smile, a nose far cuter than whatever horror he'd braced himself for, eyes that were his own but somehow better. He hadn't expected this calm so soon. He'd been caught off guard. He was in love.

"Hello." He stepped forward and ventured a small wave; hazel eyes followed his hand. "I'm your papa."

The baby blinked. Valira propped up the little bundle for a better look at Garrett's face; this one had missed out on big brother Karlspan's newborn fear of large noses. "You're just adorable, you sweet little... uh, what--?"

Valira smirked. "She's a girl."

"A girl!" His heart somersaulted. Not sure how he wasn't bouncing off the walls, he glanced at his little son on the floor. "Here that, Karl? You have a little sister."

Karlspan dropped his doll, beaming. "Yay!"

"'Yay' indeed! Did Nanalie name her, or...?"

Valira nodded. "She wants to name her after her mother, if that's all right with you."

"Of course! Isn't this great, everyone? Now we have one of each." And he cemented that fact with a kiss to his daughter's brow. Nanalie was alive. Karlspan was glad to be a big brother. And the baby--his little Honora--was the sweetest little girl he'd ever seen. It was nothing like Karlspan's birth, what ought to have been a celebration marred by poor Elhina's fate, what he'd kept trying and trying and failing to tell himself would not happen to Nanalie as well. He did not think he'd ever been happier. He did not think he ever could be happier. Surely this was the pinnacle of happiness. How could it not be?

What could possibly make him any happier?

"Um... Garrett?"

It was his father-in-law--still quiet but no longer tense, calm and perhaps a little amused. But of course he would be. He had a new granddaughter, after all. "I'm not sure that's quite correct."

Eh? "Sorry, I don't quite--" Behind Adonis, a mischievous Searle gestured to the door.

Huh. Perhaps it was possible to be happier. "She didn't look that big."

"She is a tricky one, my sister." Mindful of Garrett's third child--holy shit, he had three children!--Asalaye kicked the door shut behind her. "You're lucky that they don't look the same."

Garrett took a minute to glance back and forth between the babies. It was true that they weren't identical--or even alike, really, despite being equally beautiful. They both had his eyes and they both wore them better, and they both had a few wispy strands of similarly brown hair, but that was where the similarities ended. There was the tiniest hint of a bump in the bridge of Honora's nose, and perhaps slightly more definition in the other's chin, and maybe some difference in the overall shape of the face. That would be more than enough.

Well, except... "So, this one--"

His sister and sister-in-law shared a giggle before responding in time. "Girl."

"Then we'll name this one for my mother. Hear that, Karl?" Garrett didn't have to look at his son to know the little mite was smiling. "You have two little sisters!"

"Yay, yay!"

And if ever Garrett needed two words to sum up this day, he couldn't think of any more fitting than those.

Yay, yay.

NEXT CHAPTER: